


Pissing Match

by dsa_archivist, EA Karras (Anne)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, due South
Genre: BDSM, Crossover, Drama, Humor, M/M, S&M, Series: Mountie Slayer Arc 15, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-07-16
Updated: 2000-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-10 19:28:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11133216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne/pseuds/EA%20Karras
Summary: Ray is ticked because Aja treats Cal like scum. Tom takes Fraser....bar hopping. (I accidently put this as the plot for Family. Disregard that one.)This story is a sequel toFamily.





	Pissing Match

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).
    
    
    Title: "The Pissing Match"
    Author: EA Karras and Magnes
    Email:,
    Series: Mountie Slayer: Arc 1.5
    
    ---
    
    Tom walked into the apartment with Fraser to the sound of dead 
    silence. He glanced at the Mountie, worried. They had been out on patrol
    in the cemetary, a topic of some heat with James and Ray alike. Had something
    happened while they were gone?  And where was James? 
    
    The answer came when Ray stepped out of Adam's room. 
    
    "You need to talk to him. Now." Ray's voice was dangerous. 
    
    "What happened?" Tom asked, quietly, dreading the answer. 
    
    "He started in on Cal." 
    
    "What?  How?" 
    
    Ray held up a warning finger.  "Listen, Gramps, Aja may be your kid and
    my adopted dad and I love him to death, but Calhoun is MY retainer and
    I'm sick and tired of that /kid/ using him for a doormat.  Calhoun /won't/
    fight this battle, so I am.  You get him to lay off Cal or /I'm/ going
    to put him over my knee." 
    
    He stomped off.  Fraser blinked.  Tom did the same. 
    
    "I'll talk to him," volunteered Fraser. 
    
    *** 
    
    Adam was sitting sullenly on his bed, glaring at his shoes when Tom came
    into the bedroom. 
    
    "We talked about this," Tom said, quietly. He sat beside his son, looking
    at him. From the looks of things, he'd gotten a major scream fest out
    of Ray. 
    
    "I just wanted him to-" 
    
    "Did you /ask/ him, or tell him?" 
    
    "I told-" 
    
    "Adam..." Tom sighed, rubbing his eyes. "You can't keep treating James
    like this. He lives here too. He's not your personal slave." 
    
    Adam was silent for a moment. He hated being talked to like a child.
    As if he needed lessons in how to act. He did the only thing he could
    do. 
    
    He turned to Tom and glared. "I need to go to the meeting..." 
    
    Tom took in a breath. "No." 
    
    The boy king's eyes widened. "No?" 
    
    "No. You were rude to James, you're angry with Ray. No. You may not go
    to the meeting tonight." Tom stood up, and picked up a notebook. He handed
    it to his son, quietly. "I think you should take this time to think about
    how you've been acting." 
    
    Adam stared at the notebook, frowned and suddenly hurled it at his father.
    
    "I am not a child!" 
    
    Tom cocked his head, pausing in the doorway.  "Oh?  You're certainly
    acting like one." 
    
    *** 
    
    It had started out with Calhoun trying to leave. 
    
    There was quite a large meeting going on at Warfield's tonight and representatives
    from clans throughout the east coast were going to be in attnedance.
    Ray was going and he wanted Calhoun to accompany him. 
    
    Calhoun chuckled at the notion.  "Oh, the Gangrels will /love/ that,
    Ray," he said sarcasticly.  "Why not invite a few Swiss Fishies along,
    too?  Hell, bring Fraser and Turnbull!  No, wait!  They might talk and
    torture is illegal." 
    
    Ray laughed out loud.  "C'mon, Cal, I don't wanna be the only prince
    without a backup." 
    
    "You're the /only/ pure Caanite prince, sire.  You don't need me there."
    
    "I'm the youngest one there all the time!" 
    
    "Lord Caine isn't going?" 
    
    "Not kid young.  Dead young...not dead...ya know what I mean, ya jerk!"
    
    Calhoun smiled, knowing full well what Ray meant.  "My prince, I'm Autarkis
    and a Sabbat.  I am not welcome there." 
    
    "But...yer my retainer." 
    
    He gazed at the black-haired Knight with his geeky red glasses and elegant
    hands, wishing he could understand.  True, Kowalski had once been declaired
    Autarkis, but at the time the exile had meant nothing to him in his ignorance
    of vampire ways.  If Calhoun walked into that meeting tonight every clan
    on the east coast would be slapped in the face. 
    
    "That's why I can't go, Prince Kowalski."  He rose.  "I have to go speak
    to my second and the Sabbat.  I don't want them upsetting the other clans
    and this close to Hallowe'en they feel obligated to raise hell." 
    
    "Yer sure?" pressed Ray. 
    
    "Yes.  Thank-" 
    
    "Elder!" 
    
    Ray had been looking right at Calhoun when Aja called.  All the animation
    left his handsome face, replaced by a cool, detatched mask such as Ray
    Kowalski had not seen on Calhoun's face since...shit, since he was around
    Lilith.  Ray did not like this.  Calhoun, a man of honor from a by-gone
    day when the word meant everything in the world, had sworn alleigance
    to Ray and Caine to save Tom's life two years ago.  Ray he treated with
    a respect that was at once genuine and teasing, for he was plainly amused
    at his predicament of being retainer to a ghoulite prince and had told
    Ray.  
    
    Lord Caine, however, the son of Adam, father of all the Caanite vampires,
    was a very different matter. 
    
    He knew better than Ray. 
    
    He knew what Autarkis and Sabbat truely meant.  The clanless ones.  Despised,
    outcast, unworthy.  A band of rogues that walked by themselves and stood
    outside the law that governed the vampires. 
    
    Calhoun fit the description to perfection. 
    
    Caine would not let him forget it or what he had once been. 
    
    So he endured the jibes, the humiliation, the quiet, sneering contempt
    that this ancient in a child's body cast at him.  Every time he simply
    reminded himself that Tom was still alive because of this brat and quietly
    did whatever task his lord set for him. 
    
    So demanding of him.  Ray asked nothing from him. 
    
    "Yes, my lord?" he asked automatically. 
    
    Caine looked up at him shrewdly.  "You refused your prince?" 
    
    "I did, my lord." 
    
    Ray frowned.  What the hell? 
    
    "Would you refuse me?" 
    
    Calhoun hesitated. 
    
    "Hey, Aja, what's that got to do with the price o' tea in China?" demanded
    Ray. 
    
    "He is a just an elder.  A retainer.  Worse yet, he is Autarkis.  He
    has no right to refuse you, Raymond.  If you wish him to go, he will."
    
    "Thanks, pops, but I'll get my own date fer the prom.  And quit droppin'
    names 'cause /I/ was Autarkis, too, once upon a time." 
    
    Calhoun smiled, and shook his head. "Yours was called in a blood hunt,
    and not by a Queen or a King. It's not the same thing, Ray..." 
    
    "Like hell," Ray turned on Aja. "Yer father told ya to stay in yer room,
    didn't he?" 
    
    Aja looked taken aback. "I-" 
    
    "Didn't he?" 
    
    "Yes." 
    
    "Then go back before he comes out of his and sees ya disobeying him."
    
    *** 
    
    Cassie sat on her father's bed, reading her SAT guide while he went through
    his clothes for something to wear out.  He was dragging Fraser to one
    of the demon bars, the very one he'd met Ray and Carrie Westfall in nearly
    5 years ago.  
    He couldn't wait to get the reaction out of Fraser. 
    
    Or out of the demons. 
    
    He pulled something out of the closet and held it up. "How about this?"
    
    Cassie looked up, and shook her head. "No. Too blue." 
    
    "Hmm." 
    
    "What look are you going for?" 
    
    "Moloch." 
    
    She stared at his closet, reaching in the back. "This one." She 
    leaned back, going back to her reading. "Adam's still being a little
    bitch?" 
    
    Tom raised his eyesbrows. "I think he's having a hard time adjusting."
    
    "No kidding. He's had two years.  I think he expects /us/ to adjust to
    /him/ sometimes.  And I want to give him his own copy of the Emancipation
    Procolomation for the way he treats James." 
    
    "He does take advantage.  That's partially James' fault." 
    
    She rolled over on the bed, looking up at him.  "Dad, James swore an
    oath of loyalty.  He's too uptight to break it.  He did it to save your
    butt, remember.  He can't reneg." 
    
    Tom stared at her.  "Who told you that?" 
    
    "Ray and Fraser and Turnbull.  Where have you been?" 
    
    He stared at the leather blazer he held as if seeing it for the first
    time.  "I'm not exactly sure, honey." 
    
    *** 
    
    The Sabbat were terribly disappointed that they weren't allowed to disrupt
    the meeting at Warfield's.  Calhoun shook his head and quietly threatened
    anyone who disobeyed, especially since he was Prince Kowalski's retainer
    and if his own clan attacked the affair, Prince Kowalski could be in
    a world of trouble.  For their Elder's sake, they agreed. 
    
    "Are you going?" questioned his second. 
    
    Calhoun snorted.  "Lord Caine ordered it.  Unless Prince Kowalski gives
    me another option, yeah, I have to." 
    
    "No, I'm a son of a bitch straight to the core.  I just happen to have
    morals." 
    
    "I gave mine away.  Too much baggage." 
    
    *** 
    
    Fraser looked on in shock as Tom dragged him into the club by the  sleeve.
    He had insisted Fraser dress in full Serge. Looking around he didn't
    understand why. Leather. Lots of leather. Vinyl. 
    
    Collars. 
    
    Chains. 
    
    Oh dear. 
    
    He eyed Tom's choice in clothing, and suddenly felt very faint. 
    
    He stopped in the middle of the bar area, and sat down, nearly taking
    Tom down with him. The Moloch Slayer was grinning at him. "You ok?" 
    
    "Why are we here?" 
    
    "Cemetary patrol gets dull, Benton. What demon's gonna hunt for dead
    people?" He looked around. "This is where we go for fun. Games. Other
    things." 
    
    Fraser watched as a Chaos demon waltzed past them, leading a Hienic.
    
    "So I see..." 
    
    Tom grinned. "What're you thinking?" 
    
    "That I'm learning more than I ever wished to know about you?" 
    
    Tom stuck his tongue out and grinned. "You haven't even begun to find
    out," He looked over at the bar and grinned as he saw who the bartender
    was. "Jack!" 
    
    "Tom!" The bartender made his way over. "How are you?" 
    
    "Fine. You never called." 
    
    "I assumed you didn't want me to." 
    
    Tom nodded, "It's just as well," he grinned. 
    
    Jack nodded, glancing at Fraser. "Are you with him?" 
    
    "No!" Fraser blurted out, a little too suddenly. "No, he's not..." 
    
    Tom flashed him a look. "No, I'm with a vampire." 
    
    "Lucky," Jack smiled, wistfully. "Which one?" 
    
    "The Sabbat Elder." 
    
    "No way!  Really?" 
    
    "Yeah. Frase, I've got to....do something, will you be ok a minute."
    He didn't wait for an answer, just headed off. 
    
    *** 
    
    Cassie knocked on her so called brother's door, lightly and entered without
    being asked in. "Adam." 
    
    "Cassandra." 
    
    "We need to talk." 
    
    He looked at her patiently.  He liked her more than she liked him, but
    Cassandra had trouble dealing with a two-year old that would not act
    his age. 
    
    "James is my friend.  He got me away from my grandmother and he means
    everything to our dad.  You better be nicer, junior, 'cause while he
    may not do anything, I sure will.  Lighten up." 
    
    "He's just a-"
    
    "A great guy who would probabally be up for sainthood if he weren't a
    vampire for putting up like a little snot like you," she offered. "Lay
    off him." 
    
    He frowned. Perhaps he'd been wrong about her. "I don't care for you."
    
    "The feeling is mutual, body snatcher."
      
    *** 
    
    He stopped in the bathroom, splashing water on his face. He felt....wild.
    Electric. 
    
    He hadn't thought it possible to go into heat while pregnant. Apparently
    he'd been wrong.  Then again, male breeders didn't seem to follow any
    rules. 
    
    He had to go. 
    
    He had to go NOW. Get to James. Before the demons smelled him. Before...
    
    The Heinic at the sink next to him sniffed the air and stared at him.
    There was a look in his eye that informed Tom now would be a good time
    to get his butt the hell home behind locked doors so James didn't have
    to kill anyone.  
    "You smell goooood," was the crude flirtation. 
    
    "Polo," Tom replied brightly, and bolted. 
    
    *** 
    
    Ray said his goodbyes to Dief and Cassie, not about to rub in Aja's grounding,
    grabbed his keys, and hurried down the steps and out the front doors
    of the apartment building. 
    
    He stopped in his tracks. 
    
    Calhoun sat waiting with the Jag running. 
    
    "Word up, Cal?" he called good-naturedly. 
    
    The Sabbat gave that impatient look.  "Coming?" 
    
    "Thought ya weren't," commented Ray, plopping down on the leather seat.
    
    He shrugged.  "I can take an order." 
    
    "What?" 
    
    "Lord Caine.  You were there.  He said I couldn't refuse." 
    
    "Ho!  Ho!  Hold on a second here, Cal!"  Ray was back up to a full head
    of steam in less time than it took for Calhoun to pull into traffic.
    "Do not do this because Aja told ya ya hafta!  No way do ya hafta come
    to this stinkin' summit if ya don't want to.  Take me back, I'll drive.
    You go do...vampire things." 
    
    Calhoun chuckled at his prince's temper.  "Prince Kowalski, I'm here,
    I'll go." 
    
    "But ya don't wanna!" 
    
    "You want me there." 
    
    "Yer not my servant, Cal." 
    
    "Then look at me as back up."  He glanced at Kowalski with his spikey
    black hair and sun glasses and smiled.  "At least this way I'll get to
    piss off every clan on the east coast." 
    
    Ray sat back, thinking.  "Wait'll they hear why Aja's not coming..."
    
    "Better not tell them. They'll have a blood hunt after Tom before you
    could say Moloch." 
    
    *** 
    
    How the hell could he lose a man in blazing red and a Stetson?  Tom had
    searched the club, dodging persistant, would-be sire demons, for almost
    an hour.  Where was he?  If he lost Fraser, Ray would kill him.  Flat
    out. 
    
    Jack was a little help when he got back from his dinner break.  "He was
    talking to Rufus and Chauncey.  They run the open mike in the back room.
    Try there." 
    
    Tom nodded gratefully, wishing he'd though to bring pepper spray.  Wishing
    James was here. He was getting...uptight.  Good word.  Yes.  Uptight.
    
    Horney as hell was a better choice of words, but he was with the Mountie.
    
    If he could find him. 
    
    "Are you ok?" Jack asked, tilting his head suddenly. "You look....flushed."
    
    "I'm fine, just a little..." He stared wide eyed as a Swiss Fish suddenly
    leaned over and snifed him.  "I have to go..." 
    
    "In the back," advised Jack, thinking Tom was looking very tasty, very
    sexy tonight.  Too bad he was with the Sabbat, but Jack was no fool and
    he liked being alive. 
    
    *** 
    
    Even before they got to Warfield's, word got out that the Sabbat was
    back in Giovanni territory.  It was like dropping Jane Fonda into a convention
    full of gung-ho Viet Nam vets.  Glares, hisses, curses were thrown their
    way - or Calhoun's way, since everyone knew exactly whom Ray was and
    would no more mess with him than Caine - as they parked and made their
    way into Warfield's bar. 
    
    Warfield glared at Calhoun as he entered a step behind Ray. The elder's
    punk haircut and black leather clothing was completely out of place.
    Since the day he had delivered Lord Caine from Lilith's clutches, the
    Sabbat had not stepped foot in Warfield's territory and that was exactly
    how the Giovanni liked it. 
    
    Bad enough Prince Kowalski consorted with an Autarkis and a Sabbat, but
    Lord Caine was forced to endure his unclean presence as well.  "You brought
    him here."  
    Smart ass to the bitter end, Ray looked behind him as if noticing Calhoun
    for the first time.  "Yeah.  He's my retainer." 
        
    "He's Sabbat!" Warfield shook his head, knowing better than to bring
    that up. "Where's Lord Caine?" 
    
    Calhoun and Ray exchanged a look. Calhoun said nothing, knowing that
    opening his mouth would only worsen his position.  Ray shrugged.  "He
    had homework." 
    
    "He's two years old," growled the Giovanni Prince, sensing the lie. 
    Still, neither he nor any of the vampires present would talk directly
    to Calhoun.  They would not give him that crumb of respect despite what
    they owed him. 
    
    "So?" 
    
    "It's Friday night.  He said he would be here." 
    
    "Well...he's not," Ray said brightly.  "Hey, Franko!" 
    
    "Prince Kowalski!" 
    
    Ray turned back to Prince Warfield, unafraid of the Giovanni's wrath.
    
    "Where is Lord Caine?  Why isn't he here?" 
    
    Ray glared right back.  "Why don't ya ask 'em the next time ya see 'em,
    Warfield?  I can tell ya this much: not bein' here is his own damned
    fault." 
    
    *** 
    
    The back room.  The open mike.  Tom closed the door behind him, well
    aware of the look Jack was casting his way.  Oh, god, where was Fraser?
    Why had he ever suggested this?  Bars.  Not a good idea.  He was pregnant,
    for god's sake, and now... 
    
    He /really/ needed James.  He wasn't in pain.  Yet.  But he did have
    to fight down the desire to howl with every breath. 
    
    /Stop thinking about James.  No James.  Don't think about black leather...jack
    boots...fangs...STOP IT!  No James. Fraser.  Find Fraser!/ 
    
    Heads lifted and turned everywhere he walked.  An entire gaggle of Cloister
    demons shrieked as he walked by.  Tom frowned.  They were half his height.
    Fat chance, ladies. 
    
    He stopped abruptly.  The open mike.  Fraser!  He was...on stage. 
    
    The Mounted Slayer was talking to an enrapt audience comprised mostly
    of Enthos and Heinic demons with the odd Chaos and Vortex thrown in for
    flavor.  There was even a mailer daemon.  Tom gaped. 
    
    He was telling an Inuit story. 
    
    And they were eating it up. 
    
    Tom was gaping so completely he didn't even notice the pesky Heinic from
    the bathroom until the demon came up from behind and slid his hands around
    Tom's waist, heading straight for his groin. 
    
    Without thinking or looking, Tom landed an elbow strike hard into the
    Heinic's solar plexis and backfisted him right in the face.  The hyena
    demon hit the floor with a wheeze and a thud. 
    
    "Call me?" he begged. 
    
    Tom snarled, and turned back to Fraser. He was continuing the story,
    staring wide-eyed at Tom. He had the demons captivated, on the edge of
    their seats. 
    
    Quickly, Fraser finished his story, starting to step off the stage. The
    demons protested loudly, demanding an encore, and he shook his head modestly.
    They wouldn't believe he was a Slayer, wouldn't believe a Slayer could
    tell such epic tales. They'd even foisted a trophy on him earlier since
    the moment he started talking all the other story tellers that had showed
    up for the competition knew they had been beat and withdrew their names.
    Rufus and Chauncey had extracted a promise from him to come back next
    week. 
    
    Tom stared at Fraser, looking wild and panicked. "What's wrong?" the
    Mountie asked quietly, glancing around at the other demons. They were
    eyeing the Moloch Slayer like he was a piece of rare steak. He sniffed..
    "Oh dear..." Pheremones. 
    
    Tom stared at Fraser harder, then at the trophy. "I need to go. Now."
    
    "All right." He cast a look at an approaching Chaos demon. "He's with
    me," he stated, bluntly, and took Tom by the arm.  
    
    Rufus took one look at the quivering Moloch that clearly needed to be...elsewhere,
    then at the flushed bard beside him, put one and one together and got
    three, and nodded his understanding.      
    "Back door." 
    
    "Thank you kindly." 
        
    *** 
    
    Cassie sat in the living room watching a video. Dief sat beside her,
    eating happily out of a popcorn bowl. They heard Adam's door slam open,
    and glanced at each other warily. Even the wolf had had enough of this.
    
    Adam stalked into the living room, glaring at her. "I wish to speak with
    Diefen-" 
    
    "You're grounded. Go back to bed." 
    
    "I-" 
    
    "Now." 
    
    "But..." 
    
    "Are you dense? Go!" 
     
    He stood there, open-mouthed. 
    
    "How do you like it, pal?  Next time you push James around, think about
    this moment.  Now back in your room." 
        
    ***  
    
    "Fraser, I am so sorry.  I promise I will never do anything like this
    to you again." 
    
    "You haven't done anything, Tom." 
    
    "I embarrissed you, I dragged you into that club, I lost you - " 
    
    "I rather enjoyed it.  I wasn't aware that demons were so fond of epic
    tales." 
    
    Tom shifted in his seat, rather uncomfortable.  "Sires and Warriors usually
    are.  Breeders...don't have that much patience." 
    
    "Ah." 
    
    "Um...I...I...NeedtofindJamesrightnow." 
    
    Fraser cast him a nervous look.  "Ah." 
    
    *** 
    
    They had the whole side of the table to themselves.  Hell, they had half
    of the room to themselves.  Ray and Calhoun were seated next to where
    Caine would have sat had he not gotten his father pissed at him.  Warfield
    ran the meeting, but without Caine and with Calhoun, things did not go
    well and finally they adjourned until the following night. 
    
    Warfield was furious. 
    
    "Do NOT bring that Autarkis back tomorrow!" he ordered Ray, not even
    looking at Calhoun. 
    
    "Then I won't be here either.  Ya were nice enough to me when I was an
    elder, Warfield.  He's an elder, too." 
    
    "He's a Sabbat!" 
    
    "Yeah, and yer just a late Rennisance I-talian in a nice suit. Caine's
    my dad, this guy is /my/ retainer and he's got a lot more manners than
    all of ya blood suckers put together.  I'm not going where he's not welcome.
    Oh, and Willy?" He deliberately became insulting.  "Call him Sabbat again
    in that tone of voice and you and I are gonna have words.  'Night." 
    
    ***
    
    Calhoun followed a still fuming Ray into the apartment, surprised to
    see Fraser had beaten them home. Together, they stared at the Mountie
    and his trophy.  The unexpected sight went far in disarming Ray's ire.
    
    "Fraser, what the hell is that for?" 
    
    "I won it." 
    
    Ray made a face.  "Slaying or dancing?" 
    
    Fraser smiled slightly, cracking his neck with a quick twist of his head.
    "Actually, Ray, I won it for telling the best epic tale at an open mike
    in The Gargoyle." 
    
    "The Gargoyle?" echoed Ray.  "You went bar hopping?" 
    
    "A change of pace, according to Tom. anyway, there was an epic tale contest.
    I wasn't aware of this, but demons have a deep appriciation for oral
    history and sagas." 
    
    "Ya told them onna them Inuit tales, right?  How long were you talkin'?"
    
    "Uh, yes, I did.  I spoke for perhaps forty minutes.  They enjoyed it
    immensly and asked I return next Friday." 
    
    "Fraser, this is why we slay these creatures." 
    
    "Really, Ray..." 
        
    "Where's Tom?" Calhoun finally asked. 
    
    Fraser looked up. "He requested I drop him off at a motel. He's...he's
    asked that you hurry." 
    
    "Hurry?" Calhoun tilted his head. "Why?" He didn't miss the pointed look
    Fraser gave him. "Oh." He sat on the couch. "Great." 
    
    Ray gave him a look. "Well?" 
    
    "Gimme a minute...Week...Century." 
     
    "Scram!" 
    
    With a growl and a muttered curse, Calhoun dragged himself off the couch
    and out the door.  Ray turned and gave the Mounted Slayer an appraising
    look.  "First place, huh?" 
    
    Fraser recognized the gleam in those blue eyes and deliberately undid
    the velcro of his collar.  "Yes." 
    
    Kowalski almost lost it right there.  "I...gotta talk ta Aja a sec. 
    Interested in celebrating?" 
    
    He unbuckled the Sam Browne.  "Very." 
    
    Ray gestured, trying to think.  It wasn't easy.  "Uh...wait fer me in
    the bedroom, will ya, Frase?" 
    
    The cross-belt was slowly unbuckled as well.  "Of course." 
    
    "Don't take anything else off.  I'll...I'll be there in a sec.  Just...wait
    fer me." 
        
    *** 
    
    Ray knocked on Adam's door, peeking in. He made a face. "Ya know, for
    a guy who predates religion, ya sure got that pouty sulky baby look down
    pat." 
    
    Aja glared at his 'son', "How was the meeting, Raymond?" 
    
    "Cancelled because I brought Cal." 
    
    "Oh," Aja frowned. "I'm sorry." 
    
    "Not me ya gotta apologise to."  He sat down next to the ancient.  "Aja?"
    
    "Yes?" 
    
    "I gotta question but I don't really need the answer.  It's one of those
    rhetorical things."  He waited until Aja looked up at him before continuing.
    "How deliberate was tonight?" 
    
    "What do you mean?" 
    
    "I'd really hate to think ya put my retainer in that position on purpose.
    He saved yer dad's butt, he saved yer butt, ans he sure as hell saved
    mine.  I know there's plenty he's done that ain't quite on the up-an'-up,
    but he's here now and he's proved himself.  If not ta you, Aja, then
    ta me."  He leaned over and kissed his father on the forehead.  "G'night,
    daddy-o." 
        
    *** 
    
    Calhoun paused outside the motel room, seriously considering leaving.
    He winced as a particularly painful yowl pierced the night.  Oh, god,
    what was that...that smell.  Oh, god, Tom was in heat. Again.  When he
    was pregnant.  Oh, god...  
    He turned to run, then jumped as the door was yanked open, and a clawed
    hand reached out and grabbed him by the jacket, yanking him inside. 
    
    Tom looked as if he wanted to devour the Sabbat. 
    
    Poor James didn't stand a chance. 
    
    *** 
    
    Saturday night.  Ray sat with Aja at the kitchen table, waiting. 
    
    Calhoun finally joined them, looking exhausted.  He sat down slowly and
    Ray pushed a thermos of blood Mina had procured for them earlier in the
    day. 
    
    "Drink up," ordered Ray and Calhoun obeyed without a word.  Ray had to
    fight to keep from laughing.  "Want me to drive?" 
    
    The Sabbat nodded. 
    
    "Whenever yer done.  No rush." 
    
    *** 
    
    Tonight there were no hisses, no curses.  Tonight the crowd of vampires
    parted out of respect, not out of contempt.  Caine went first and Ray
    and Calhoun followed and the demon and the ghoulite and the Sabbat were
    met by Warfield. 
    
    "Lord Caine.  You were sorely missed last night." 
    
    Ray cast his father a look. 
    
    "My abscence was my own fault, Prince Warfield.  I understand you had
    some difficulty with Elder Calhoun being present."  He looked up at the
    Giovanni.  "It is to stop as of this moment.  He is my son's retainer.
    By insulting him, the clans insult my prince and my person." 
    
    Warfield nodded.  "It will be done, my lord." 
    
    Caine looked at Calhoun, looking to see if he was satisfied.  Calhoun
    bent his head in a slight bow.  It was enough.  He was content.  Caine
    returned the nod. 
    
    "Very well.  Raymond, Elder, attend me." 
    
    "My lord.' 
    
    "You got it, daddy-o." 
    
    


End file.
